Sometimes when you go for a nature walk with a specific target in mind, whether it’s birds in spring, hoverflies in summer, or galls and leaf miners in autumn, you often stumble across something completely unexpected. On one such walk, I came across a strange translucent blob hanging from a leaf over a woodland stream, a discovery that is perfect for Halloween.
Where has this year gone? The last time I looked it was spring and now its autumn. The leaves are losing their colour, turning shades of yellow and red before quietly floating to the ground. Flowers are going to seed, making it increasingly difficult for insects to find the nectar and pollen they need to continue laying eggs.
It’s a race against time, as insects strive to produce the next generation before winter finally sets in. Yet it is also a time of transition, as we bid a sad farewell to our summer visitors and welcome back to our winter guests.
When we think of autumn migration, we tend to think of birds arriving in from Scandinavia and Iceland like the Fieldfares, Waxwings and Redwings and geese including Barnacle, Pink Feet and Brent. But did you know amongst these migrating birds are migrating insects too? Species such as the Hummingbird Hawkmoth, Clouded Yellow and Painted lady are now heading south after a fruitful year pushing north, remarkably hoverflies are part of those migrations too.
Yes folks, the autumn migration is here.
It’s that time of year when I love visiting nature reserves where passing migrants might be spotted. In a week or so I will be on the Norfolk coast, but today, mid-October it was my local reserve Old Moor.
As Halloween approaches, I always find myself noticing the stranger side of nature. Autumn may signal the end of the insect season, but if you look closely enough, there are still plenty of surprises waiting among the fading leaves.
This is the story of one such surprise, from many many years ago.
The days are drawing shorter and the nights colder, the season for most insects has already passed and the number of species of hoverflies spotted is reducing quickly in number. There are still a few on the flowering Ivy and Michaelmas daisies, so on a sunny day both can be full of pollinators.
At this time of year, I spend less time watching flowers and more time inspecting leaves. Autumn can reveal all sorts of hidden treasures, from strange plant galls to the winding tunnels of leaf miners hidden inside a leaf.
So, it was a mild autumn afternoon, I spotted what looked like nothing more than a tiny speck of dirt, on a leaf. It was so small I almost ignored it. My first thoughts were it was going to be a micro moth, a gall, or an egg - it turned out to be none of them.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote an article about Batman Hoverfly (Myathropa florea), covering its life cycle, geographical range and how to identify it in the field. If you haven’t read it, you can find it here.
It’s a hoverfly with a superhero emblem, buoyant larvae that dive like miniature whales, and a strong association with cemeteries.
The insect we know today as the Batman Hoverfly (Myathropa florea) is already one of Britain’s most distinctive hoverflies. Yet behind its comic-book nickname lies a far older and darker story.
Long before Batman existed, naturalists across Europe knew this species by another name: the Death’s Head Hoverfly.
I often think that, in today’s fast-paced world, we move from one project to the next without pausing and more importantly without celebrating our achievements.
This post is very much about me taking the time to pause, stop, reflect and celebrate what I have achieved in the past year.
Yes, it has been a year since I was made redundant from my role as a Business Intelligence manager, with my work and my division being offshored. It is something I fear may happen to many more people as companies increasingly adopt A.I and pursue greater profitability. However, this is not something I want to dwell on. The past is the past, and I have always tried to maintain a forward-looking attitude. So, let us move on….
Credit: C.Artindale
The most remarkable migrants of all It is the Autumn season birds are leaving our shores heading to their wintering grounds, a phenomenon kn...
